How Hard I Must Have Fallen
by MajesticSilverDawn
Summary: On hiatus until I feel like writing.
1. Death By Disbelief

I close my eyes and try to blot out the images.

_"I have a memory that has continued to haunt me. Just one. That unpleasant look in your eyes reminds me of it. That aside, this is my gift to you to show my respect for making it this far. I'll freeze you solid right here so you can watch my glorious ascent!"_

But I cannot. The taste of sour bile is on my tongue. It burns as it goes down.

_"Kyurem! Glaciate!"_

Master was not murdered by normal means. He was not cut by steel. No iron bullet pierced his heart. It was just the ironic way it played out. Master thought he could warm Kyurem's heart by speaking to it. Master could not feel the control Evil Man had on Kyurem.

I'm not sure whether Master has unfrozen yet. Lucario tells me Master's Aura has diminished. Even if master has unfrozen, he is Not Awakening. Not Awakening is different from Sleeping or Fight-Sleep. Sleeping happens once every day. All Pokémon and Humans Sleep, and when they wake up, it's as if Nurse has just treated you with medicine. Fight-Sleep is when you try so hard to please Master that you Sleep after a Fight. I don't know what hppens after Fight-Sleep, but we awaken afterwards, while Nurse helps us get well.

Zangoose ambles back to the small patch of green, the only vegitation left in a crystallized, frozen world. In front of us he places a Deerling, slick with dark red. He uses his claws to slice open the kill, spilling fresh blood. While Zangoose and Mandibuzz attack their portion of the carcass, I produce a Razor Leaf that Volcarona devours. Lucario gnaws on bones that the carnivores toss aside, and I stretch my coiled body and lie in the sun, drawing energy from the rays. I think I Sleep, but I am not too sure. It was more like a lazy drift from Sleep to Wake.

"I haven't had a meal like this in forever," says Zangoose, sitting back and observing Mandibuzz, who caws in agreement. I snap awake, my back arching at the unexpected noise.

It's true. Master never gives Zangoose or Mandibuzz _real _meat. Instead, he presents us with the same humdrum brown bits of flaky crust and limp, weak Ducklett chunks that taste like mud. The two carnovires sometimes pilfer a few Patrat on the rare occasions when Master isn't looking.

I sit up, satisfied with my brief rest. Just as I finish herding Lucario and Volcarona back into our group, I hear a familiar voice.

"My friends, where are you?"

He is the Seer. The one who can tell what we are thinking.

"I can bring him back!"

Am I the only one who can hear Seer's voice? There is a loud rustle in the bushes and Seer shoves them aside, sending a shower of thin ice shards cascading to the ground, melting.

I don't think Master's ice has melted yet.

"Serperior," he says softly. I can taste the regret in his voice. "I can bring Nate back."

I shoot him a look of disbelief. When in Not Awakening, it is common belief that you do _not_ Wake.

"You all," he whispers, gesturing to our congregation of 5, plus an egg. "You loved him, didn't you. Your Master?"

_**Seer**__, _I think. _**If we had truly loved him, we would have taken the attack and saved him**__._

That much was true. It goes to show love isn't what it's cracked up to be.

"You don't love him enough, then?"

I close my eyes in resignation. Live the lie.

"Then, at least give yourself a chance to love him more."

Lucario stepped between us and angrily barked at Seer. But Seer stared past him with a blank look.

"Why? You told me you loved him, back when you were a Snivy." He says this indignantly, as if he is not to blame.

_**Things were different, back when I was a Snivy. **_It hurt to lie about the Master I loved, but I did it anyway. _**You don't want to bring ****him**** back, trust me**__._

"What?" Seer snapped, the metal circles on his wrist clanging against each other. "Did he hurt you?"

I knew all the others well enough to trust them with a lie. Zangoose picked up the tale and Lucario translated for me.

_**"'He was obsessed. Obsessed with his Fights, obsessed with 'justice.' Obsessed with wanting to avenge the Evil Man for killing his father.'"**_

Seer peered at me through a curtain of green hair. "I-" His voice broke. "-am so sorry. If I had known, I'd have done something."

_**"'By the time you knew, it would be too late.'"**_

Volcarona was a good liar. I was thoroughly impressed.

"Well then come with me. In hiding, you'll have a better life."

What was there to think about? Master would have approved of the idea.

I smile, and Lucario sends out an Aura message.

So we followed Seer into the-

-What?

Room: Painfully white. It smells like blood, the coppery, rich scent of blood. The taste of metal is in the air.

The screams.

The cries.

The white hot finality of Not Awakening.

Seer huddles in the corner, muttering apologies he wants me to accept.

As I feel my life bleed out onto the dental white bed, I hear these words:

_"You will awaken, Serperior. You will learn to hate."_

* * *

**So, this is my first Fanfic. I have really enjoyed it thus far... it's been amazing. Check out my profile for upcoming stuff...**

**Thanks, Review and Rate and answer my question!**


	2. Moonlit Day

"I'm sorry, all of you. I swear to Arceus- I'm sorry!"

This was the mantra I chanted as I ran, my bare feet pounding rythmically against the cool, hard ground. I was sorry, I truly was. The grief resounded with a hollow _twang _every time I thought of it. Soon enough, the spastic floods of stomach-clenching guilt were enough to force me to kneel as I caught my breath. As I vaccumed in frigid air, the noise of something cracking filled my ears.

I winced. Aldith and her men were here. I would die alone in my father's frozen world. She had her Seviper coiled just behind me. I could hear it hissing.

I was an idiot. I deserved it. Death by poison? Or perhaps its Flamethrower? A Wrap would have suited my father's wishes, no doubt. Team Plasma wasn't created to give mercy. Nor were they formed for quick, painless deaths.

"N, look at me."

That wasn't Aldith, the voice was too... careful. Yet it had a oddly high tone to it, as if the stranger were a female.

"Serperior is with me. He's alright."

My back arched and my eyes snapped open. Yet I stood, at the base of the tree, not daring to turn around. Not daring to see the abomination of nature Colress had shown me in the laboratory.

Cowardice lead to failure. Failure was not an option.

I turned around.

In front of me stood a young woman who stood tall, a solid five feet. Her dark hair looked slick and shone with an ethereal quality to it. Her blue eyes stared grimly into my own, and I could only imagine what she saw in them. She held a Pokeball in her hands.

I felt nothing, only noting the absence of thought when she broke away from my stare. I knew I should have felt something, a pang of remembrance, anything but the ungodly white-hot anger that flared within me. It had been _far_ too long.

All I could muster was an weak "it's been two years."

She smiled, but the curve of her lips was too angular. "How have you been, N?"

We stood like that for a while, recalling the past in forced, high voices until she called me on it.

"Stop, N," she began, biting her lip. "This is serious."

I felt a laugh bubble inside me, and I almost let it out, but I realized what it was: hysteria. Father's voice was ripped from a crevasse in my memory that I had subconciously labeled "forgotten" for a reason. As the memory was relived, I felt the strange sensation of floating, almost as if recalling my past as a different human being.

"_Get up, you idiot, get up! You worthless child! Idiot! Abomination! I can't believe we share the same surname! Freak!"_

_The boy tries so hard to stand, pushing his bloody hands to the slick ground. "Father, I'm trying..."_

_"NO! If you were trying, you Arceus-forsaken idiot, you would have done it by now! I will repeat myself: kill them_ now_."_

_The boy hears the thoughts of the Pokémon, the tortured wails of creatures bleeding to death._

_**"Mama? Wake up, Mama? Oh, Mama, it hurts! Please make it better!"**_

_Some were more acceptant, intelligent in spotting their downwall. It was the quiet last thoughts of those few Pokémon that the boy thought he should never have heard._

_**"I want to die. Chia, Xario, I love you both. I will be joining you soon... I hope. Arceus take pity on your lost souls." **__The child hears the sudden, jarring silence of death and huddles into a ball on the ground. "Why do I have to hurt them? Father, please make it stop!"_

_He is begging now, tugging on his ears to try to stop the noise. _

_"MAKE IT STOP!" _

_He pounds on his head with everything he has, and when that does not cease the death, he claws at his eyes and face. His bloody nails find the cool metal of the gun and desperately cling to the object that slips from his grip. In one swift motion, the gun is pointed at the Shinx knelt at a female Luxray's corpse. His fingers clench the trigger and the noise is deafening. The silence is welcome._

_The tall man snaps his finger and the corpses are swept away to who-knows-where, leaving the young boy and his father alone in the room. The man reaches for the whip hanging convienently at arm's reach. But his hands to not grasp the worn handle of the abject. Instead, he looks the boy in the eye._

_"Natural, do you see now what we humans do? We are afraid of anything we don't understand. And we use our intelligence to kill Pokémon who do not share our fear. It is unfair."_

_Ignoring the frenzied expression on the child's face, he keeps going._

_"You, Natural, like all other human beings, fear death. You were afraid of the voices welcoming death. So look what you did!" He kneels down and grasps a clump of bloody fur and growls. "You killed them."_

_"No..." The boy tries to speak. "I didn't do it on purpose! I'm sorry, Luxray, Shinx. Absol, I hope you find Chia and Xario. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." A sudden vigorosity ignited within his soul. "IT WASN'T MY FAULT! NO! I DIDN'T DO THIS! IT WASN'T ME!"_

I thrash about, feeling the cold, solid ground.

"N. N! Look, wake up! Arceus, why are you so heavy? Crap, N, someone's coming. Man, I'm not joking. Wake up! Wake u-"

I do wake up. Just in time to see her face stretched in a silent scream, her unseeing eyes staring past me, at something I cannot yet fathom.

Will I ever be able to find what she admires right now? The unfathomable?

No. I will die with my face laid out stoically. My eyes will be shut, my lips in a pleasant smile. My hands will be laid gently in my lap, and I will be sitting upright or leaning against a wall.

I know I am kidding myself, believing a fantasy. I probably will not die peacefully and alone.

I probably _will _go to Hell.

In the fantasy, there is no blood. But in reality, my hands are wet and sticky with the stuff. I don't know whether it is my blood or not. But either way, I am guilty.

I tell myself that I am guilty as I push my palm into hers, trying to give it warmth.

But she remains as cold as the world that surrounds us.

* * *

"Sir? So how'd it go?"

"We've got him. Tell Colress that Aldith from Sector 4 has retrieved the target."

"Alright, sir."

"Drew? One more thing."

"Sir?"

"Ghetsis has plans to come to Hoenn next. In fact, C sqad has already arrived there. Are you sure that there will be no hesitation while carrying out my orders?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you are dismissed."

Drew would have turned to go when he remembered something.

"Sir, I have a question."

He paused, recalling her parting words.

"What city is C squad in right now?"

Aldith narrowed her eyes. "Regional Prefessors go down first, you know that. They've finished with Littleroot and are moving to Petalburg."

Wordlessly, Drew walked through the sliding doors.

Aldith was ruthless.

Well, so was he.

Sapphire eyes were the last things he pictured before taking the long way back to the F squad corridors with a blank mind.

* * *

**Yes, this is an updated chapter. I just got an amazing review that made me hyperventilate, so, being the perfectionist that I am, I found every little error in every chapter and fixed 'em all. I added Drew, too, the coordinator from Hoenn, 'cause I just got an explosion idea.**


	3. Losing Fear

I let out the air I hadn't yet realized I was holding in. He smiled at me, but it felt like he was dissapointed with himself.

Why? The guy had just wiped the floor with me in front of all of Kalos.

If Ash hated me, he wouldn't have even bothered to glance back at me.

He would be going on to the finals, and I would be going home. I turned away before I had the chance to look at his bare arms. The audience was cheering; I could see the red signs with Ash's name written across them in big, bold lettering.

I could still remember we first met, how my face burned with shame when my eyes refused to peel away from his metal limbs. "Frostbite," he had said in such a cold voice that a chill went through my bones. It was about a month ago when we last talked.

By no means are we friends, let alone _together_, but we did travel to the league with each other. He's "too in to be out, too out to be in," as my brother would say.

"Miss? 'Scuse me? Miss Astrid?"

I jolt out of my thoughts and lock my knees as I spiral back into reality.

The referee pats my shoulder consolingly. "Sorry about the loss, but the next match is in a few minutes." He taps his watch with two fingers. "We've gotta keep this thing running. Great battle, by the way." He shoves me onto the long, green walkway that leads to the dressing room. "Thanks," I call to the moustached man, who has already forgotten me, staring intently at his clipboard.

I run into the dressing room, sit down, and bury my face in my hands. Something about battling Ash made me recall Brandon, of the Kanto Battle Frontier.

"Not bad," he had said when I could finally grip the Frontier Symbol in my damp palms. "For a Kalos girl, not bad at all." I remember giving a strained smile and bowing to my brother's childhood hero.

"Astrid?"

I faintly register a cold hand on my shoulder. Metal. When I look up, Ash's face swims into focus.

Ash's face?

I jump, looking slowly up into his deep brown eyes. "Arceus, don't scare me like that!"

He forces a reluctant smile. "Sorry. It's getting late, and the Center's going to close soon."

I stare at him blankly. He sighs, and sits on a velvety bench in front of me. "Maybe we should heal our teams?"

"Oh." I stand up, so quickly that my head churns and my blood pounds in my ears. Ash grabs a visitor's map and we walk alongside each other into the League Square.

"If our rooms are to the left, and the Food Court is the second right..." Ash mulls over the directions while I stare up at the moon. Tonight, she's a waning crescent, framed by the clouds who seem to have blanketed the whole sky, though the moon shines bright enough to seemingly push away all obstruction.

"Knew it!"

I wince as Ash grins at me triumphantly. "We go straight!"

I chuckle slightly. "Since when do you smile?"

Ash's face turns serious once again, and he turns away.

"I don't smile," he mutters, more to himself than to me. "_I don't smile._"

My chest tightens with something- I can't quite pick out the feeling. Maybe pity, slight anger, but mostly disappointment. "Can we just go?"

He starts walking again, so briskly that I have to jog to catch up. "Arceus. Slow down, will you?" I call after him.

"Hurry up, then." His voice cracks.

As I oblige, I catch a glimpse of his face, no larger than the sliver of moon in the sky. His eyes are dull, lifeless, and his cheeks shine with tears. _Hopeless_, I can't help but think.

"What are you hiding?"

He swipes madly at his face and turns. "Astrid, you lost that battle for a reason. Now leave me_ alone_."

"What are you _saying_?" Arceus forbid he insult my style! "I can win against you! I just-"

His eyes narrow and I stop midsentence.

"You don't know how much I want to tell you the truth."

"Then why don't you tell me," I whisper. "I can help you."

"No," he says. "Nobody can help me! Not even one of you!"

"What the hell?"

One of me? What is he talking about?

"Meet me at the afterparty tomorrow night. I swear, I'll explain everything."

I sigh. "You'd better."

"Your Absol must be exhausted. Apparently this Center is open until midnight."

My eyebrows furrow. He just went from screaming at me to advising me in a few seconds.

"Ash, I've been looking for you."

I swivel around. Behind me is a tall woman dressed in an modest, full-sleeved black dress.

"H-h-hello, M-miss C-cynthia," I mumble, wide-eyed.

She smiles at me. "I loved the way your Absol could endure the Draco Meteor from Ash's Altaria. Really, it was by dumb luck that Ash won." She turns away from me.

"Ash, we need to talk alone. League business."

Ash shakes his head. "Astrid is going to get involved sooner or later. Might as well just tell her now."

"But Ash, you said you'd tell me at the afterparty." I wasn't complaining, just confused about the sudden change of events.

Cynthia looks at me. "Perhaps we should go somewhere more akin to private conversation."

"Lead the way," says Ash, looking unnaturally bored.

I guess I don't get any say in this, then.

I follow Cynthia and Ash into an area just inside the League boundaries: a small, compact gray building. The door rubs against the top of my head as I pass under it, and Ash has to duck slightly to get through. When I get a chance to register what's inside, I have to blink a few times. Gone is the image of cramped broom closet or outhouse. Replacing it is a huge room, so cavernous that my footsteps echo against the marble floor. When I look up, I see stone arches curving to morph the room into a dome. As I slowly walk forward, I trip over a small, metal box with a large, red button on it.

"Go on, press the button," urges Ash, with a hint of childish impatience in his voice I have never heard before. The rest of the room is plain, save for the formal tables and chairs. Then, I notice something on the wall. Something very small, something almost impossible to notice: a marginally small difference in the color of one retangular area from the color of the rest of the walls. I ram my hand against the button, and, sure enough, the small section of wall recedes. The triumphant laugh refuses to stay bottled up and I let it out like a cough.

Cynthia's words of praise are honestly sort of overwhelming.

"Arceus, you saw the door, didn't you?" she asks. "Wow, the second person who's _ever_ been able to spot that."

I can't help it: I don't really like to be second at anything. So I ask, "Who was the first?"

Ash's head snaps down suddenly in a sort of "please don't look at me" way. Cynthia eyes him warily as his metal hands clench with a _clink_. "Both of you in one room."

He glances back up. "Like what you said when we first met in Sinnoh. 'When every life meets another life...'"

"'...Something will be born."

The faint whispers of their words gently float down, like feathers easing their way toward the ground. I've heard her say the phrase multiple times on TV, but now, when I hear Cynthia's crystal clear voice and Ash's low, husky one combine, I understand the enormity of that phrase.

No matter how large, how miniscule, how loved, or how hated, every life has meaning. And when you meet anyone- Trainer or Pokémon- you are giving birth to new interaction, new understanding. Essentially you create a life.

The words of the ancient people echo in my head as I step towards the future.

* * *

**Wow.**

**Well, that was a real bugger to write. Seriously, I went from Ash getting attacked by a flash mob to Cynthia turning out to be Astrid's older sister! #TooManyDarnIdeas**

**Be warned: we will be rotating between these 3 points of view in the future. Next chapter- N tells us about the fate of Unova... 5 years after Hilda is killed.**

**R&amp;R. Please, dudes.**

**I updated Chapter 2 and fixed a bunch of non-make-sense-stuff and added Drew from Advanced. If you find any grammar or spelling issues, please tell me!**

**MSD, signing off. Hope you have a wonderful Saturday! (Or Friday, Or Sunday, depending on where you live)**


	4. Hero's Demise

_5 Years Later_

I caught her singing once.

She never knew it, but I was there. It was almost two in the morning, and I had lost all sense of orientation. As a result, I was slumped against her door, half-asleep. I had been forced to steel myself against waves of fagitue and nausea. I don't even know why I was there, leaning against her door frame, wishing I'd gotten a peaceful sleep the night before. Then I heard the sharp cry of her XTranciever. I had to bite my tounge to keep from yelping in surprise. I assume she left the chair to pick it up, but I wouldn't know.

I think I saw her, I just can't remember seeing her.

She didn't say anything throughout the duration of the call. I could only barely hear her uneven, ragged breaths.

When she finally set the XTranciever down on the cedar nightstand, the room felt thick with sadness. I could hear her slow footfalls on the carpet, puncturing the still air every few seconds. Then, a heavy sigh, more sharp exhales.

There was a song Anthea sang to me, back when she found me injured after Team Plasma had taken control of a Haxorus. Ash and his friends couldn't hear the song, but I could, every word resonating in a niche deep within the folds of my soul.

This was what _she_ sang.

I think of the song now, how she gave it a bleak, hopeless tone. Anthea made it sound rejuvinating, like nothing mattered but happiness.

I guess Anthea, Concordia, and I were living a lie.

But they're dead now. It doesn't matter anymore. _She_ died almost 5 years ago, on a night when a crescent moon illuminated the sky.

5 whole years. Half a decade. A twentieth of a century.

In 5 years, you can lose many things. The Pokémon League is just a myth now, something trainers can only recall. The last one was held 2 years ago, in Sinnoh: The League Massacre.

_Sinnoh was the last to go._

_Unova has since defrosted. Team Plasma is still in very strict control there, holding mass killings they call Freezings. They had held me captive for almost half a year when some G-Men- followers of the Dragonian Cult- set me free._

_There are two Cults, each located in a region. The Dragonian Cult is the largest organized group in the Kanto-Johto landmass, sometimes called DC, for Dragonian Cult. The Cult has about 1000 men and 50 or so women, each willing to give their life for their freedom._

_Hoenn was weak and frail, at the time of invasion. Pokémon were going mad, reacting to buired nuclear waste letting off dangerous levels of radioactivity. Most Pokémon were held in a sort of mass quarantine on an uninhabited island. When Team Plasma attacked, they took the mainland first. All military forces were rushed to stop the enemy, and the Pokémon were left unguarded. Plasma easily took the big island and bombed the quarantine._

_I was a thousand miles away, but I could hear the Pokémon screaming._

_There is a Cult in Hoenn, the Resistance Cult. Everyone just calls it the HR- the Hoenn Resistance. Being the smallest of the two Cults, it only has 30 members, most of which are the Gym Leaders and Elite Four that are still alive. It was formed just a few months ago, from the only city stable enough to sustain the population- Lilycove City. Nobody has sent supplies or help to Hoenn. Nobody even cares about Hoenn, because Sinnoh is facing far worse._

_What I'm relaying may alarm you. It may frighten you. But I know it will make you thank Arceus that you, people of the future, do not live in our time._

_Nate, the "Hero that Failed," had ancestry in Sinnoh's Aura Guardian family lines. His mother had left Unova for Sinnoh undetected, like many others. The region was known as a savehaven and held high in that regard- everything was perfect. Life went on as it should have, even when Team Plasma loomed miles away. The Pokémon League was still held, though the 14-day-long event was somber. Kalos had refused to accept any survivors from the 5 Regions, wanting to retain its neutrality. Most of the tournament went soundly, up until the semifinals, when a Darkrai appeared on League Premises and there occured several unexplained dissapearances._

_During the final battle, the aforementioned Darkrai entered the stadium and fired a massive Dark Void, enveloping the crowd and putting all but a few terrified onlookers to sleep. A mysterious haze filled the room and the security cameras faded to black. The rest of this is commonly accepted as a true, eyewitness acount of what happened._

_The Darkrai was commanded to use Giga Impact on the row where the Elite Four were seated. Aaron, the Bug-type user, died instantly, and Lucian, the Psychic-Type user, was Protected by his Alakazam. Bertha was not present at the League, and Flint had just left his seat to prepare for a later exhibition match. Then, a hooded man, presumably the Darkrai's trainer, entered the arena, sent out a Latios, and killed the two finalists with Luster Purge. The normally sealed entrances to the stadium were opened and a flood of Team Plasma members filed in, each wielding a Poké Ball. In unison, they called out their Pokémon and attacked._

_70,000 of the 100,000 spectators died that day. The Plasma members just kept coming, and by the time it took a Trainer to defeat one of them, a hundred of his comrades might have also been hurt or killed._

_There is no cult in Sinnoh. There was no will to resist in Sinnoh after the League Massacre._

_If anybody finds this, whether by accident or purpose, spread the word. Tell the story of what really happened._

_Maybe one day, the truth will not be hidden. Maybe one day, this sun will set._

I memorized that note. I know exactly where I buried it. I was stupid back then, to think that I could change something.

Words may be powerful, but they're nowhere near enough to stop a war.

I've been told Ash joined the DC. With his strong opinions and additude, he'd fit right in with the best of us. It's just that we're so big, he could be anywhere- in our Sinnoh Base, around Undella Town, even in Kalos.

I am in Kanto right now with Steven Stone, Champion of Hoenn. It was his idea to investigate the recent murders of Professor Oak and his assistant, Tracey Sketchit, and use it publically against Team Plasma. I once made the mistake of asking him why he was in Kanto instead of helping his people in Hoenn. He glared at me with such an intensity, that for a second, I could see inside him.

His deepest memories, darkest secrets. The things he held dearest to his heart. It was so raw and personal that I had to look away to break the connection.

This man loved his people. To leave them behind, even for the greater good, was literally tearing him apart. His heart was tainted black, his soul a deep red. He was troubled, yes, but his mind was a crisp white that looked almost like freshly fallen snow.

Steven's mind will dull in due time, just like the snow. The snow isn't white anymore, it's gray.

And occaisonally I come across a red patch of it.

But reality awaits.

Steven stops walking suddenly. He closes his eyes and whispers something.

"Steven," I say, as impartially as I can. "We have to keep going."

"Yes, yes, I know. Just old age catching up to me." He gives me a grin. "I'm only in my thirties, but this world has taken its toll on me."

I try to mask my occasional sideward glances as I help him sit next to a tree. We wait there a while, both on opposite sides of the same, massive being. I see a Butterfree land nearby on another tree. It has a bloodstained yellow ribbon tied to its neck.

"N," Steven says suddenly.

"What is is?" I ask, but my question goes unanswered.

The Plasma member in front of me pulls out his gun and shoots twice. Steven gets up and kicks the man in the chest before grabbing me and running.

I can't really feel any pain. But everytime I look at my arm, I see the dark red and the empty gap in my wrist. It should hurt. Why doesn't it, then?

I hear gunshots, so many that it sounds like maybe Thundrus has come to Kanto. I am honestly quite comfortable where I am, perfectly positioned on Steven's shoulders so I can see both the road behind us and the meadow ahead of us.

Then I hear a single crack; I swear I can distinguish it from the others. Steven's grip goes slack and I tumble to the ground about three feet away from where he lies.

"Play dead," he whispers, and I do what he says.

A Plasma Member walks up to Steven, I can locate his menacing Aura. He kicks the Hoenn Champion a couple of times before doing the same to me. He steps on my bloody wrist and I hear the _crack_ of bones snapping out of place. Why the Hell don't I feel anything?

"Are they dead?"

"Shoot the Champ a couple times to make sure."

I want to stop this, I really do. I've stood idly by while someone is killed a couple of times, and I always felt guilt, depressing, skull-numbing guilt. I really want this time to be the last time I feel that kind of pain.

Blood erupts in a cloud from his chest, and gushes out onto the flowers, who peek out bravely from under the snow.

They leave.

I stand up. I look at his body.

Still, I feel no pain.

I am a coward, but cowards survive. In the end, heroes never survive.

The snow is probably as red as it will ever be, and I feel so little that I might as well be dead.

* * *

**Well, this chapter was mostly a worldbuilding one. Hope I didn't cram it in your faces _too_ hard...**

**If you didn't already, check out my updated ending to Chapter 2, and I hope I see you in the review section.**

**Oh, yes. I must thank thechisnkyguy for motivating me to get this chapter out waaaaaaaaay earlier than it was supposed to come out. This is pretty long, too. I wrote this in a day, edited it in an hour, and it's going up today.**

**Thanks for reading, and hope you have a great day!**

**-MSD**


	5. Bad Luck

Lance told me today.

Arceus, when I last saw Dad, I thought it was going to be just like every other time he left. He was heading to Coumarine to meet someone from Unova, and they arrived safely in Kanto a week ago.

I had just assumed he was late, that he would be coming back soon enough. He was supposed to have returned to Kalos via Flying-Pokémon yesterday, and the damned _military_ was looking for him with their high-tech radars.

That right there should have told me he had died.

The Kalos military never steps into Kanto affairs unless Diantha finds it neccesary. And I'll admit it: finding the Hoenn Champion is fairly high on _anyone's _priority chart, but now that those bloody reporters are here, I can't seem to shake the fact that Diantha is pulling some sort of publicity stunt.

Alarm all of Kalos and awaken the dormant military, for Steven Stone is missing! Once we find the man, I'll throw a big banquet and everyone's invited, courtesy of Champion Diantha!

I can't find Ash at the moment, he's doing some training in the Main Complex. The bloke had the nerve to waddle all the way to the far side of Main when he knew what Lance was about to tell me! Arceus, men are so hard to understand.

After a solid hour of wandering through dimly-lit tunnels no wider than a Flabébé, I stumble across something. Not really letters in English, but they look almost Pokémon imitating the alphabet. Unown, aren't they? If I squint hard, I can make out the words.

_Solid love is worse than liquid hatred._

My head instinctively jerks back and hits the other wall. What the Hell is that supposed to mean? Just about a yard in front of me, I see another sentence. Except it's not really a sentence, more like a fragment.

_Blood of your mother._

I can't stop my jaw from going slack. I never really knew my mother, I always lived with Grandma in Lumiose City. Dad was just a myth back then, like the myth of Diancie.

_Soul of your father._

Dad wasn't religious, he believed it hindered his skills. According to him, nobody had a soul, only everlasting willpower.

_Will of the people._

These words are a lot harder to read, it seems like someone's been here before me and rubbed their hand all over the writing. I reach out to touch the dark lettering and feel wetness. I look back down at my fingers. Blood, and no mistake. But whose blood?

I whip my head back around and edge a bit closer to the previous words on the wall.

_Blood of your mother._

It's still readable, but fainter somehow, as if when I turned away, I took away some of the letter's life.

I hear something in the darkness, beyond the green, dusty light. A hollow thunk against concrete. A footstep. Then another.

I am paralyzed in terror, listening to the _clip-clop _of the feet. It seems like there's more than one person. With a small gasp, I remember the Fire Stone I have in my bag. I dig through my bag, every grunt of frustration I make echoing throughout the underground tunnels. Finally I find the rock and grasp it tightly, willing for it to respond to the heat of my palms. And it does, but I don't need its light to see two eyes, one glowing red and the other a blinding white.

"Who are you?" I scream. I am answered by silence.

Despite the shadow being so close that I can feel its pressure, I cannot see anything. The small lights set up every few feet prove useless as I feel something- a huge hand- grab my midsection and lift me into the air. I have never felt like this before: terror so sheer it renders me unable to move, heart beating so fast I swear it might burst. And, worst of all, my screams.

Never had I felt something like that, where I couldn't do anything, just let my body be thrown about and let screams of agony tear out of my throat. And when the screaming stopped it was replaced by whimpering, small noises not quite sobs. The monster made no noise, just smiled jovially as if nothing was wrong.

It felt like Hell, an eternity of Hell. And for a second, it was Hell. The now slippery concrete morphed into a smoldering lava pit and the walls became embellished with spikes and moved slowly inward, as if taunting me. The thing remained the same- a shadow the size of a Weezing with an arm the size of a Gyarados.

For some reason, when the flashlights shone in on me, I didn't feel shame. I felt relief sweep over me in a wave and I collasped. I was lying facedown in a pool of my own blood.

I wonder if this is how Dad died.

* * *

I wake to Ash staring grimly at a spot between my eyebrows.

"How's your head?" he asks gently.

"Fine."

"And your legs? The mark is going to leave a scar."

"I'm feeling a bit sore." Arceus, I am sore.

He gets up and turns toward the door, but his feet still point at me.

"Don't you have stuff to do?"

He eyes me rather harshly. "Not tonight, no."

"Well then," I suggest. "Stay here overnight, _Sir_." I put false emphasis on the last word.

"Don't mock me. I am your superior. Don't forget your place." Ash pauses and looks away for a second.

"Arceus, what happened to you?"

Nonchalant grunt, stoic shrug.

He eases himself down into a chair, and we both relish the silence.

* * *

**Well, this took a long time to crank out, but it's here! Sorta shippy stuff between Ash and Astrid, tried to keep that a very real possibility. This chapter wasn't QUITE as long as it was supposed to be, I just find it really hard to write from Astrid's POV.**

**Thanks for reading, if you even read this far, and hope all you Americans had a good Fourth of July! Review, too, it helps!**


	6. Unexpected

**A.N.- Argh, so sorry that I died for half a month and miraculously returned. I posted this chapter back on the 13th, and for some reason, only the first 3/4 or so uploaded. Then, my computer got murdered by a wrecking ball and I got a new one, but the new one was all screwy, so someone had to fix it, and... YAY I HAVE A TABLET MICROSOFT SURFACE KEYBOARD PRO NOT AN IPAD PEOPLE 3. **

**Nice name, right? Anyway, I'm back now and will now have a semi-regular updating scedule- expect a chapter every week or so, but don't be surprised if I upload more than that!**

* * *

"Sir?" I call.

There is a muffled response from behind the door.

"Well, hurry up, then." I sigh, looking at Janine. She blushes a bright red and casts her glance downward. "Sorry, Daddy gets like this a lot. I mean, what with all the respect Lance has around here."

I nod, thought I can't exactly agree. Don't get me wrong, Lance is an amazing man, but there comes a certain point when you know someone so well, you're inclined to hate them. But what the Hell? The guy got me my prosthetics after Unova, and now I'll be forever in gratitude to the G-Men.

"So?" Janine questions. I look at her oddly. "What?"

Her already furrowed eyebrows sink deeper into her face. "Your subordinate. Amelia, right? How is she?"

I smile inwardly. Astrid is a Kalotian name, one my people are not that familiar with. "Astrid's fine. 'Cept for a concussion and a few cuts, she's alright."

"I've heard rumors. That they marked her."

I snort. "You say it like she's one of them now."

"So they _did _mark her?"

"Arceus, Janine, so what if they did? It's not like the mark _does _anything."

She flicks her violet eyes skyward. "You never know, Colonel. Not with Plasma."

"Nonsense." I shake my head, just to confirm where my thoughts lie. Koga bursts through the door in his usual black _gi_ and red cape trailing behind his heels.

"I'm ready, Janine." He looks at me expectantly. "Ash?"

"Right. Xatu, let's go." She's perched on the handle of the hotel door, cocking her head and scanning the room suspiciously. I think hard about our destination as she glides towards the three of us. We all place our hands on Xatu's wings. I can't really call upon our mind link that easily, as Xatu is one of my newer Pokémon, but with minor difficulty, I activate the connection. _Teleport,_ I think.

I use Teleport a lot, mainly for transport, and sometimes in battle, but every time I experience it, I can never get used to the feeling. First, you feel fire, and it's so hot, it's almost cold. Then you do feel cold, ice water washing over you, slowly, excruciatingly. Next you spin, around and around in a vortex of pain, and you forget where you are, what you're doing.

Then it's over, and you stumble about for a bit, and then you're back to normal. I've been told different people percieve Teleporting in different ways, based on their personalities.

Once I come to my senses, I find that Koga is dusting himself off. Janine is still on the wet grass, clutching her head. "You okay?" I ask, gripping her shoulders and heaving her up onto her feet.

She studies me warily, her eyes still dull and misty. "I still can't believe you're only 20, Colonel. And you passed the test when you were 13."

"Janine, you're higher in rank than I am. Don't call me Colonel, call me Ash."

"Don't you think it might be deemed improper if I called you by your first name?"

Koga motions us towards the lobby and starts walking into the building. Janine follows obediently, her normally erect stature softened and bent. Koga, being a ninja, has a very strict sense of honor. Janine almost never goes out in public, and when she does, she acts so soft and quiet that she is nearly unrecognizable.

The tall man motions me forward and whispers in my ear. "General Lance never told me the password, see?"

The bald secretary gives me a quick once-over. "I don't know you. Password?"

"_Et dedit illi draco nostrum._"

He nods briskly and motions us toward the elevator. "I suppose you know the drill?"

The cylindrical chamber is empty, save for a small potted plant in the corner. I press the button- B for basement- and we slowly descend.

"Ash?" asks Koga, quite loudly.

"Yes, Sir?"

"What was the password again?"

"_Et dedit illi draco nostrum._ It means 'dragon gives us will.'"

Janine nodded slowly. "Fitting, Colonel. But in what language?"

"General Lance calls it Latin."

As if on que, the elevator _dings_ to a stop. I am the first to step out. Quickly, I recall Xatu and start walking. The walls and floor of this level are bare, a harsh adjustment from the lavishly decorated lobby. I wouldn't go as far to call it shabby, but it is plain, almost beautifully so. I am admiring the simplicity of it all when I notice it- the door. "Arceus, almost missed it."

Koga raps his knuckles on the door, and I can hear him inside. "Identification?" he drones.

"Colonel Ash Ketchum, with First Lieutenant Koga Zagnit and Brigadier General Janine Zagnit."

"Password?"

"_Et dedit illi draco nostrum_."

"Come in, you three."

The door swings open, and Lance is standing up with his arms crossed. "You're late, Colonel."

When I don't argue or defend myself, he only grunts and sits down. I do the same without waiting for an invitation. Janine and Koga still stand awkwardly behind me.

"Sit, please. We have many important things to discuss tonight," someone else says. I've heard the voice before, and I play it over and over again in my head. Whose voice is it?

The source of the annoyingly familiar voice approaches our table.

My heart nearly stops when I realize who this man is. "I thought you were dead," I mumble, hearing my voice tremble and then flatline.

N looks at me with his piercing eyes. "I could say the same thing to you."

**(A.N. This is where my previous July 13 upload cut off)**

For a moment, I don't know what to do. I'm just sitting there, being barraged by things I swore never to remember. The cold, the utter, numbing cold. The resignation, the screams of pain. Every time I opened my mouth, snow would swirl into it and choke me. It would melt quickly inside my mouth, deteriorating quickly to cold water. Iris and Cilan held my hands, I knew. I could sense them, but I couldn't feel them. Eventually we made our way to a home on Route 10, inching through the blizzard. Even when the man ushered us inside, piled us with blankets, I still felt so cold.

N's voice drags me back into present-day. "Where have you been?"

I close my eyes, shaking the troubled expression nothing exciting a look of bland seriousness that I hope draws all eyes to N. "Places."

Lance knows what I was thinking about. He bites his lip to hide the grimace and runs a hand through his flaming hair. "There'll be time for catching up later. We have urgent matters at hand."

Outside, a crack of thunder jostles the skyscraper and a pen rattles off the table.

The lights flicker on, then off. For the briefest moment, the buzzing of the generator starts up. Its life is cut tragically short by Zekrom's pillars of judgement.

"Some storm, huh?" jokes Koga.

"Lance, I hear voices. They're looking for us," says N. I hear the scraping of his chair on the floor and the _thump-thump_ of two firmly planted feet.

Janine asks, "What Pokémon are they?"

"A Magnezone, and... Damn, I can't recognize the second one!"

I hear a grunt to my left. Janine or Koga. "All right, then! Ariados, use Flash!" A spider-like Pokémon appears on the table and summons a bright flash of light from its beady eyes, illuminating the room in an odd, almost natural way.

I stand up quickly and feel the blood drain from my face. I grip the table and squeeze my eyes shut as the world around me loses solidity. Time seems to slow. When I move my limbs, it feels like I'm trying to fend off a Muk's attack. I open my eyelids, which feel like they've been glued together, and everything is tinted blue. I feel so sleepy, though I only know one thing.

_I am awake._

"Ash! Stop, you'll kill him!"

_But-_

_Isn't that what I swore never to do?_

"Janine! Get away!"

_Did I hurt her?_

"Ash! It's over, the Plasma grunts left!"

_Why can't I stop this? Every time I stuggle, I feel something being stolen from me._

"Damnit, someone stop him!"

_I have to fight this!_

"N! Get away from him!"

_Because if I don't fight..._

"Lance, he's stopping! It's alright!"

_I will die._

* * *

**Ha. Hahahaha. This was honestly a blast to write. I tried to make Ash's arrogance toward Lance feel clumsy and awkward because, well Ash hates him (for reasons that WILL be explained LATER) but he doesn't _really_ hate him, ya know? **

**Ash and Janine- a whole different story. Janine is going to become sort of like Ash's May in this story... But she's not like May at ALL. She's more like... how can I put it... an Iris-y Serena? A Dawn-ish Misty? I DONT NO QIT BATHERING MEH!**

**Thanks for reading, and I hope to entertain (or enrage) you with another story about Barry that I can't remember the title of at the moment but it's on my profile! I like feedback, so please do the review thingy.**


	7. Exposed

I'm sorry about not being alive for three weeks. It's just that the chapter I _had_ written was horrible. I really don't want to post anything horrible for the people of the interwebs, so I tweaked it a bit. I also have a life that is honestly quite busy now that skewl's getting started. Also, forgot to do this in all my other chapters, but I'm not sure if it's even necessary... Here goes- **I do not own Pokémon or any characters, settings, concepts, or creature names belonging to Nintendo or TPCi other than any original characters or creatures I decide to add as I see fit**.

One more thing: this is minor, but it's been bothering me like heck. The names of my chapters previously contained the character's name who narrated the chapter, and then the name of the chapter. Because my chapters are only 1-2,000 words long, I want to remove the restriction of 1 point of view per chapter so that eventually, my chapters will be at around 10,000 words each! So, for example- the chapter called N: Moonlit Day will be changed to just Moonlit Day.

* * *

When I think of Ash Ketchum, I think of eyes ablaze with hope. Jerky, exited movements punctuated by whoops of glee. Passionate, powerful, and reassuring.

A bit like a cup of honey tea, Grandma's croissants and the warm feeling of a Fletchling nuzzling my cheek.

A lot like Dad, before he was Dad. The strange assurance that he was... _connected _to me somehow. The way my heart would skip a beat after passing him in the halls, the odd feeling to jump out of bed and go to the Upper Chambers where he slept, just to feel that flicker of recognition ignite in my gut.

I rub the Keystone with my thumb over and over, almost as if I'm scraping away the oily residue on the outside. Like I'm peeling away the years of elegant love I've had for Absol like I helped Grandma peel onions, exposing the, throbbing, pulsing chunk of raw emotion.

"Finding oneself," he said. "There will not be understanding of the world around us unless we fully understand the _perceiver_ of the outside."

To Hell with that! I don't care if Dad said that so much he got the words damn trademarked, he was wrong. "_Dead_ wrong!"

I blindly followed his words for two years, and what good came out of it? Kalos is at war, half the people I know are dead, and I realized something.

I was so absorbed in seeking myself out that I ignored the world around me. I was selfish, heartless. I did what I had to do, just like Ash. But he fought valiantly alongside his friends for the rest of us. I killed, wounded, tore apart families and friends, just so I could roll my eyes backward and see myself in a new light. I guess that in a twisted way it worked. I know who I am now. I am Astrid the beautiful, misguided by my blood father. I am a psychotic killer, a Narcissist whose own demise will be her own vanity.

Yet, though my mistakes are clear, I still feel sorry for myself. I still wish for redemption, that somehow Dialga will turn back the hands of time and I can do everything over again.

But why? Why am I in denial? Why do my instincts fly in the face of all logic?

Why can't I accept it?

He's dead, it's _my_ fault for not coming with him. Even if he was a liar, he didn't deserve to die.

Now I have to focus on what matters. What I can still protect.

It hurts, after such a long time of not doing it, but I stand up, and with a sudden burst of adrenaline, shove my wheelchair out the door of my room.

"I am_ through _with being sorry!"

* * *

"Alouette, gentille alouette.

Alouette, je te plumerai la tête."

* * *

They make small talk around him, chortling with laughter, guzzling beer from aluminium cantines. The ones that are sober huddle in something like a Durant pile with a deck of cards, occasionally throwing odd glances at him, but shrugging off his glassy-eyed stare as a side effect of the alcohol. But he has not taken a sip of the booze. In fact, he has not eaten or drank anything since their arrival in the Hoenn region.

The first hints of morning start to appear in the sky. Flocks of Swablu rip the curtain of night from the stage, revealing the magnificent sky. The clouds look so close one could almost reach out and grab them, foreshadowing the heavy fog to come.

The sun looks almost blood red as it lazily floats up from the horizon, turning the now visible water a deep shade of orange. If he bothered to look up, he might see the helicopter marked with the all-too-familiar logo. It signals the arrival of his superiors.

Everyone snaps awake, even him. They all rush to the clearing where previous training took place and align themselves into rows and wait.

The chopper descends at an almost dramatic speed; not exactly slow, but too hesitant to be proper protocol. The doors ease open while the helicopter is still a good ten feet above the ground, and a woman clad in a black jumpsuit leaps out. He smiles at the sight of her, and as their eyes meet, her gaze sharpens. Aldith's hands fly to the belt at her waist and her hands grip a Pokéball.

"Drew, can you tell me what the _Hell_ you are doing in Hoenn?" she snarls. "And you? All of you D Squad men _honestly_ couldn't figure out that there was something wrong here?"

Her shriek spurrs the murmurs of anxiety to spread like a wave through the 24 men, all glancing nervously at each other, looking for someone to blame.

He walks toward her, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath. For a while he just stands there, head lolling forward, eyes fixated on the ground.

"May."

Her eyes widen in anger. "What are you-"

"-May. You wanted an answer to your question, Sir, so I gave you one."

Amused, he watches her grip a Pokéball so hard that her knuckles whiten. "So, you're in Hoenn not because you have a death wish, but because of 'May'?"

"Mmm-hmm, yup."

"And what exactly is a May, Drew?"

First he snorted. Then he looked Aldith in the eye and grinned. Soon, he had thrown his head back and was laughing so loud that he might as well have been screaming.

"Ah, Aldith. Don't you understand? I haven't severed my ties with my past!"

At this, the shocked men quietly observing the scene came closer to their commander. "Sir, we're sorry, really." "He was wearing a disguise!" "Dressed and acted the same way Jorge did!"

The redhead stamped her foot in anger. "Shut up, will you?"

She turned her attention toward Drew himself, dressed head to toe in D squad grunt attire, with hair dyed blond, and blue eye contacts.

"Explain to me right now why on Earth you thought impersonating a D squad member was a good idea."

"That's an easy one," he replied, nonchalantly popping his shoulders. "To see her again."

"Argh! Liepard, use Body Slam!"

Aldith called out the feline Pokémon and scowled as it complied gracefully, calling out its name as a sort of battle cry and leaping onto Drew.

"Now listen and listen well. My Liepard will claw your eyes out and lick its paws afterwards unless you explain to me every one of your psychotic ramblings."

Drew rolled his eyes and sighed the way a child might act in response to a scolding.

"Fine," he giggled. "May is my love, my life. I knew her and I knew that in battle, she was a force to be reckoned with." He paused, smiling at a spot beyond Aldith's eyes.

"After the bombings, she came back to Hoenn. She's gotten powerful, yes, but only because I helped her. Only because I looooved her! Don't you see? I can manipulate her! I can make this good for both of us! I'll make her sorry she left me, and you...

"You will have her in the palm of your hand."


	8. Blue Tide

**Location: Celadon City, Kanto Region  
****Time: 1300 Hours**

There is only one thing worse than killing, and that is watching someone die. The Freezings are worse- they are almost a monnthly tradition in some regions. But of course they don't kill _everyone_. Team Plasma need people to rule, don't they?

* * *

N visited me a few hours ago. The first thing I noticed was the white scars on his hands. Had they not gone away yet? Next I registered that it was, in fact, N and not some odd impersonator. I don't know why I would think that. I don't really know anything anymore.

He didn't waste time with formalities, he just started talking. His velvety, smooth voice droned on and on and on. My head was throbbing with pain and I could feel my pulse rushing through the veins in my forehead. Minutes turned to hours and hours turned to lifetimes as I sat there and squirmed, desperately wishing for an Aspirin. I then remembered something- the nurse's parting words before she had left me last night. I sat up sharply, my upper body screaming in protest, and reached my arm out to the nightstand to the left of my cot. My lungs were burning from all that moving. I quickly tore open the aluminium package, my clumsy tin fingers clanging into another, and popped two pills in my mouth, downing them with a swig of water.

Almost immediately, the fogginess cleared my brain. It might have been a mind over matter thing, the pills working so quickly, but hey. I'd take what I could get. I shook my head a few times to lock in my good feeling, then motioned for N to continue. This time, I listened to what he was saying.

"I... Well... I had no idea of your capabilities. I can't exactly say with confidence that what you can do doesn't scare me, but Lance seems elated about this. He says between your... ability and mechanical arms that you'll be an unstoppable opponent."

"What ability?"

"I knew you weren't listening," N growled. "For Arceus's sake, your Aura!"

"No." I shook my head and repeated it again. "No. I'm not using my Aura to kill someone."

N looked surprised, but then shook his head slowly. "I thought you'd changed at least a little bit. But you're just the same as you were seven years ago."

"And what's wrong with that?" I swung my legs off the bed, prepared to stand up, and stopped immediatly. The strain on my lower body was going to make me delusional.

He recieved my snide comment with even less stoicism than my last; He stood up and turned toward the wall, looking as if he wanted to punch it. I can't say I blamed him.

"Nothing. Nothing at all's wrong except for the fact that you'll _die_. It's just that this world is changing faster that any of us can run. And Ash, you haven't even started the race yet. The spectators have forgotten about you, while you're sitting there at the starting line." He took a deep breath, looking back at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

I could feel the throbbing in the back of my head slowly returning. It wouldn't be long before the throbbing gave way to a second assault on my senses.

"I think you know I could kill you if I got mad enough, right here and right now. So why are you taunting me like this?"

Without missing a beat, N answered, "Because I trust you. You know that I only want to help you win this race. I _don't _want to see another _ignorant _death and get blamed for it!"

"Yeah? _Ignorant_, am I? Then what does that make you, Professor Oak? There is _so _much that you don't know, and so much that you never _bothered _to care about! You should know that somehow, I'll end up winning the race. People like Astrid and Lance will get me there, somehow."

I felt the Blue Tide pushing against my concoiusness, trying to waver my resvole to remain in control over my actions. Once, it even washed over me completely, but I saw N's concerned face, his body poised to run, mouth open and ready to let out a cry, and I resisted.

N trusts me with his life. And I am scared that I will destroy his faith in me completely. I have killed more than I would like to admit. I've killed my friends, my foes, my loved ones, the ones that I hated. But I am still alive, only because the Blue Tide forces me to resist. And I _will _resist, only because I have no other choice.

I won't forget Pikachu. I won't forget the Freezings at Saffron, or Lavender, or Mahogany. I won't _ever _forget the faces of anyone I've killed, because they all torment me.

I will never be relieved of my sins, will I?

* * *

I miss Volcarona and Lucario and Zangoose and even maybe Mandibuzz. And I wonder what became of our egg.

Master stood tall, though he was shorter than most of his kin. He loved fiercly, though he was punished by all who did not know the feeling of it. He died silently, though he was loud and full of life. Everything about my Master was odd. But I loved him anyway.

But Master is gone now. Cold treats me well. He pets me and he lets me curl up to him when I miss Master. When a female raised her whip to me, he defended me, soothing me with his crooning voice. He is one if the leanest Humans I have seen, and he dons a white cloak and glossy pants. And on the rare occasions that I look at Cold's face, I see his pale face, shrewd eyes, and sleek glasses on his pointy nose. His hair is unnatural, with bright tones of blue and yellow.

Cold is quite comforting to look at. He is almost as soothing as my Master. And yet he is not. He will never replace my Master, whom I grew irritated of and whom I thought I hated for leaving us behind.

And as ashamed as I am to say it, the only thing stopping Cold from becoming my Master is-

_"Ghetsis has ordered me to take you to visit Mr. Steven Stone. At least I won't be alone on this suicide misson, eh?"_

Cold's voice comes to me as though from the heavens. Instantly, I know what is going to happen, and I obey his orders. I slither over to the cage made of metal

_Metal._

and I curl up in the corner. Cold talks to three males and a female, all dressed in white

_White._

while he makes eloquent motions with his hands. I feel a sharp prick of a needle and I try not to move as the female carries away a vial of my blood

_Blood._

and the males rub me down with a harsh-smelling liquid. I notice that my scales now gleam brightly. A smile crosses my face.

* * *

**Location: Unknown  
****Time: 0400 Hours**

They close the doors of the large vehicle and it rumbles to life, driving slowly at first, then quickly gaining speed, until it is careening down a hill, taking its precious cargo down with it.


End file.
